Ummmm, I had kind of a fun night last night. And a quick disclaimer, nobody reads this blog, and I am certainly not being paid by anybody to write reviews or promote anything, so these words are pure.

A friend of mine who is a good friend to have because she is so freaking gung ho and enthusiastic about EVERYTHING (let's run the 1/2 marathon! let's train for it 4x a week at 5:45 in the morning! Let's go for a hike in Gatineau! Let's do this! Let's do that!) signed us up for something called Supperworks. This is one of those services where you go with a group of other people and basically put meals together for your freezer for quick and easy week night meal preparations. Now, I'm usually wary of these things because it involves a) other people (stranger danger! stranger danger!) b) work stations that involve measuring which means a potential for math (they used my voice for Teen Talk Barbie whose recorded message was "Math is Hard!" c) these things usually take place in strange parts of town with names like Orleans and involve highway driving and roundabouts to get there and d) did I mention I don't like strangers?

Well, after a bumpy start (we got lost getting to this "Orleans" place) the night quickly took turn a turn for the better when the hostess for the evening asked me "red or white" and upon hearing my answer promptly handed a glass of wine. Well played Supperworks. I then looked around the room where I would be spending the next 2.5 hours and saw 7 bright and clean stainless steel workstations with recipes, instructions and fresh ingredients posted above them. Ummm, Gwyneth Paltrow - is that you hiding in the corner????

My friend and I had picked 9 meals to make (which we split in 2, sharesies y'all) and off we went. My friend made me do the first one (to get over my fear of "new") and I did great. While she made the second meal I took time to reflect on the other clients in the room and promptly judged and categorized them in about 5 minutes flat. Here are a few that stood out:

1) The Unusually Diverse Couple. I am all for diversity and mixing up the cultures but this couple really stumped me. He in his mid-fifties I'd say, white, and ringing my gaydar loud and clear. She, East Indian I'd say, early forties and super attentive to her partner. I think they were romantically linked because the touched each other a lot. I tried to eavesdrop to determine the nature of their relationship and whether or not they had kids, but they didn't give ANY clues as to their status. Hmmmm. Very interesting.

2) The "We Don't Eat White Rice/Food Ever" mother daughter team. Well. These two crawled up my ass immediately. I was making a fish dish beside them and was asking my friend about what rice to compliment the meal, white or brown? Well, if Mother didn't pipe in with one of those country club jaw clenched voices and state that her and her daughter NEVER eat anything white and that brown EVERYTHING is soooo superior to anything white. And daughter looked at us kind of evil kind of snobby and reinforced the words NEVER and EVERYTHING after her mother spoke them. Really? Do you two really exist? And they marched around the place without ever smiling. What really frustrated me was the daughter was soooo pretty and had a lipstick on that I really wanted to ask her about, but she was just one of those people I didn't want to give the satisfaction of knowing that someone coveted something she owned. Yeah yeah yeah, don't worry, I know I have issues.

3) The CEO/CFO Of An Important Company Who Doesn't Have Time For Idle Chit Chat. This lady killed me. She obviously came from work as she was still in her power suit. She did trade her heels for birkenstocks, which I suspect she matched to her outfit (for all you readers, this isn't really necessary, same goes for Crocs and Uggs, in fact, I think matching them with your outfit might make it kinda worse). Anyhoooo, I attempted a little chit chat with her while casually making quesidillas beside her but I could I tell that I thoroughly disgusted her with my pointless conversation and wine drinking. What took me 2.5 hours to do she was done within 45 minutes and she had merged Apple and Microsoft in the process (I kid, I kid).

4) The Lost Guy. I'm not really sure what his story was. He seemed to be there by himself. Maybe he signed up to meet chicks? I'm not really sure. It's like he signed up, realized it was not at all what he expected, but couldn't just leave, but also didn't really want to put nine meals together by himself for the next couple of hours. He did drink his glass of wine (I was watching him in case he didn't, I would have asked if I could have his share) but I kind of lost track of him. I think he just left.

5) Lady Just Had a Baby and Just Had to Get Out of The House for Couple of Hours. I left this woman alone. I heard her talk to the hostess and my spidey senses told me not to make friendly with her. She just wanted to be alone, anonymous and drink wine for the next 2.5 hours. I'm pretty sure she was the last to leave.

There were more people there but these ones really stood out. The "We Don't Eat White Rice/Food Ever" mother daughter team gave us snark when we were settling up at the end of the evening so it gave me extra satisfaction to ask the hostess lots and lots and lots and lots of questions so I could hold them up even longer than necessary (which is kind of mean, maybe their brown rice was kicking in?) I really am a meanie sometimes.

So, long story short, I would totally do this again. I have nine meals in my freezer ready to go which I'm sure Jo and I will enjoy immensely (the girls will laugh in my face when I suggest they try them, of this I am sure as well).

I have really really bad allergies. When I woke up this morning I looked in the mirror and my eyes did not look like my own. So I did what any normal woman would do and pretended that I FINALLY had the Elaine Erwin eyes (fyi favorite supermodel of the 80's/90's, and yes she was a supermodel) that I have always coveted. I spritzed on my Chanel no. 19, got dressed in a flowy feminine top and white jeans and catwalked to the kitchen channeling my inner goddess. There may or may not have been an internal soundtrack playing Salt'n'Pepa in my head.

Elaine Erwin alter ego was quickly crushed, no decimated, by a husband who snorted and said I looked like I got beat up in my sleep, and by the girls who kept asking me what was wrong me and why did I look so weird.

Huh. So now I am channeling Rocky Balboa in drag.

And I thought I was bad....

So, when you decide to move, you quickly realize how much crap you have. How does this happen? My nature, my natural instinct is to hate and repel clutter and random bits and pieces that don't serve a purpose yet here I am cleaning out cupboards and drawers and baskets and shelves and clearing out the CRAP. Three-quarters of our worldly possessions are now at the Salvation Army. Many of these worldly possessions include the girls' precious items. And by precious items I mean CRAP. If I had tried to get rid of this stuff when they were home there would of have been Greek tragedy of sorts composed right there on the spot. Everything is special, nothing can be thrown out, yadda yadda yadda. Where do these little mini hoarder instincts come from? Even an old container of bubble gum bubble bath that proved to cause mysterious rashes on the girls after bathing in it was deemed too special to throw out (I know, I know, why didn't I throw it out myself after the mystery hives appeared? I have my own issues I suppose). A bottle of dried up nail polish could not be tossed - Edie claimed she could resuscitate it with some *magical fairy water*.

To make a long story short, after a visit to my parents house, the mystery of the girls tendency to amass and store their riches was at least partially solved. It's in their DNA . When looking for some Tums in my mom and dad's medicine cabinet, look what I found:





I'm pretty sure this can be tossed now.

Gaaaack!

As you may have read, we are moving. Packing up, picking up and leaving for Toronto. I really think people with children should reconsider ever moving anywhere until the kids are launched. A few reasons:

1) Children will dig up toys with 10,000+ pieces that they haven't played with in months once they get a whiff that tidy house is required. These toys are intricate enough that they require days upon days of setting up, and any hint of dismantling or putting them away will result in tears, devastation, and cries of "Why do we haaaaaaave to moooooove!" Grace currently has a structure composed of hundreds of bright, colourful straws and joints in the the works - and this is being engineered in the hallway of course because she doesn't want her own room cluttered. Edie is currently throwing down a story-line akin to Gone With the Wind, which is being re-enacted by a kajillion Polly Pockets (epic, absolutely epic stuff with multiple costume changes, and no, the discarded costumes do not get put away in the designated Polly Pocket box).

2) They will also detect freshly painted walls and washed windows and draaaaaaag their fingers along them,which is a crime in itself, but a travesty of justice after they have consumed freshly baked, warm and oozy peanut butter and chocolate chip cookies.

3) They will cry with zero abandon over the loss of friendships due to the move, and then after I work my ass off to arrange play dates they flippantly state that they would rather stay home with me, actually.

4) When asked to clean their rooms up, they will do a seemingly remarkable job, but when I go to do their laundry I go gray with the realization that they have stuffed their clean, neatly folded laundry (that I asked them to put away days ago) into their dirty laundry bags, and there is no way to way to distinguish the clean from the dirty. I outta just shove the kids in my frontloader at the end of the day.

5) They will prove over and over again, that at ages 6 and 9, they are indeed not too old for sippy cups (buy stock in paper towels yo). Milk, orange juice, apple juice, it all gets spilled. Except water. They are remarkably adept at not spilling water.

Actually, husbands get in the way of a move tremendously as well, for the following 2 reasons:

1) They (and by they I mean Jo) give no warning at all that they painted the floor of the utility room, and look put-off when you tell them you walked through their wet paint.

2) The beautiful marble counter tops that have been buffed and polished to a sheen that they have never had before are immaculate and void of any clutter, except for a lone, homeless baseball cap. If eyes could bleed.......

Someone should do a head count at the end of the day our our first Open House - I can't guarantee their safety after these episodes.

Guess what folks, I'm moving! The Meanie family is picking and moving to
Toronto at the end of the month/early September. It's been a long time
coming - we have been trying to leave Ottawa for the past, oh, 11 years or
so. The first move was to be to Bermuda. Jo and I couldn't get pregnant,
so we decided to take advantage of our childless status and a job
opportunity in Bermuda for Jonas beckoned us. Pretty much the day we
popped our visas in them mail, I found out Grace had taken up residence in
my uterus. Well, Ottawa is a nice place to start a family, right? The
next adventure came approximately 4 years later, with an opportunity in
Toronto. Yay! We thought. Bright lights, big city, here we come! We
sold our house really quickly in Ottawa, headed to Toronto in February to
look for a home and then realized a) Toronto is really, really expensive b)
I loved my job at the time and c) Jo wasn't crazy about the job that was
taking him to the big smoke. Retreat! Retreat! A new home in Ottawa was
purchased and the Meanies huddled together surrounded by familiarity. The
next attempt was Edmonton - now I don't want to knock Edmonton, but I'll
just say it was not our first choice to live there, and I wasn't terribly
disappointed when this opportunity was squished by personal matters at
home. Now, by this point in time, we were rocking our 'hood, mingling with
the 'A' listers in our neighbourhood every weekend, the girls had a solid
group of friends on rotation in and out of our home and I was reigning
Queen of Christmas Cookie Exchange (overseeing approx, 14 subjects I might
add) and this has been status quo for the past 5 years.

So, what changed? I don't know, change is just in the air. Jo has an
amazing opportunity career wise, and it happens to be in Toronto. My
career is at a bit of a lull at the moment, so I have no problem bidding it
adieu and seeing what opportunities might await me there. Grace and Edie
for the most part are pretty stoked for the move, looking forward to
hanging out with their cousins who they rarely get to see (ummmm, they
might also think that they will get to go to Toronto's Wonderland every
weekend).

Most people have the same reaction when I tell them what we are doing, they
smile and say I will love it there. A few people have reacted with a
"Toronto sucks balls". I know Toronto is not for everyone - but I'm
optimistic that it is for us. I know we will never duplicate our life in
Ottawa where we have a generous sized home, enough parking for 4 cars, and
pool in the back yard, but that is what this adventure is all about -
shaking things up a bit.

I don't know too many people in Toronto, I'll have to work my way up to
Queen of Christmas Cookie Exchange again in a new city, but I'm really
looking forward to this adventure.

(I'm also looking for work in TO. Here is a link to my "other" blog with
my background and c.v., please take a look and share it if you think you
can help me out!)